You know, doctor, you're not the first therapist I've seen since I got back.One was recommended to me by my family doctor when I first came back.That guy wasn't very nice, and he pretended he didn't know who I was, which was so fake—you don't know who I am unless you're deaf and blind.Every time I walk down the road and I turn around, it seems like some idiot with a camera will jump out of the bushes on the side of the road.But before all this bad luck happened?Many people have never heard of Vancouver Island, let alone the Clayton Falls area.Now, if you tell anyone about the island, I bet the first thing that comes out of their mouths is: "Is that where the lady realtor was kidnapped?"

Even the guy's office was disgusting - black leather sofa, plastic fake potted plant, glass chrome desk.It's stupid to make patients feel less comfortable.And, of course, everything on his desk lined up in a perfect line.The only crooked thing in the whole office is his teeth. If you ask me, I think if a person can arrange all the things on his desk without fixing his teeth, it is really a shame. It's a little out of the ordinary. He started by asking questions about my mom, and then he actually asked me to draw my feelings on paper with crayons.I said he must be joking, but he told me that I was resisting my feelings and that I had to "open up and accept the process".Phew, to hell with him and his process.I only went to him twice.And, most of the time I was there, I wondered whether I should kill him or kill myself.

So, I didn't try psychotherapy again until December - at this time, it was already the fourth month after I went home.I've pretty much let myself sink into a depressive state, but to think that I might be like that for the rest of my life... It's funny what you write on your site, you've got a good sense of humor as a psychiatrist, and you You look nice - and you have nice teeth, by the way.What strikes me the most is that you didn't suffix your name with a bunch of titles that even the devil can't figure out.I don't want the most famous doctor.That just means more inflated egos and more expensive charges.I don't mind driving an hour and a half to come to your place as long as you can get me out of that nightmare.Besides, your clinic is so far away, there is also an advantage, that is, so far I haven't found any reporter who can follow it all the way.

Don't get me wrong, just because you look like a nice old granny doesn't mean I like being here.Seriously, you should be hitting sweaters or something, not taking notes here.You want me to call you Nadine?I don't quite get it, let me guess.You let me call you by your first name, you want me to feel that we are already good friends, so I can tell you all the things I don't want to remember, let alone talk about, don't you?I'm sorry, I didn't pay you to be my friend. If it's the same name for you, I'd better call you doctor. Now that we are here, we want to open the skylight and talk brightly, but before we start, I want to make three chapters with you.You must follow my rules.You can't ask any questions.Not even a sneaky "how did you feel when" question.I'll tell you the whole thing from beginning to end, and when I'm interested in hearing your questions, I'll tell you.

Oh, by the way, are you wondering, has I always been like this?To tell you the truth, no, I wasn't this nasty before. It was the first Sunday morning in August last year, and I was sleeping a little longer in bed with Emma, ​​my golden retriever, purring next to my ear.For me, there are not many opportunities to relax like this.I had my hands full that month trying to secure the sale of a beachfront apartment building.In Clayton, a 100-house complex is already considered a big project, and the final competition fell to me and another agent.I don't know my competition, but the developer called me on Friday and told me they were happy with my pitch and would let me know the result in a few days.I feel like a big deal is about to happen, and I even feel like I've tasted the champagne of victory.In fact, I've only had champagne at one wedding, and I've only had a sip before switching to beer—a girl in a satin bridesmaid dress, swigging a beer bottle, doesn't look like a lady at all— But I believe that the success of this transaction will make me a mature professional woman.It's like turning water into wine, or beer into champagne.

After a week of rain, it finally cleared up, it was hot, and I put on my favorite dress.The skirt is light yellow and the fabric is very soft, which I like very much.Wearing it sets my eyes a hazel color instead of a dull brown.I usually don't wear skirts, because I'm only a little over 1.5 meters tall, and I look like a dwarf in a skirt, but this style of skirt makes my legs look slender.I even decided to wear high heels.I had just had my hair cut and the ends just dropped to my chin.I stood in front of the mirror in the living room, checking my gray hair one last time—I only turned thirty-two last year, but because of my black hair, it's especially noticeable when I have it.I whistled, kissed Emma good-bye (someone went out to pet the wood, I petted my dog), and headed out.

The only thing I had to do that day was sell a house.Originally, I wanted to take a day off, but the homeowner was very anxious to make a move.They were a nice German couple, and the lady baked me a Bavarian-style chocolate cake, so I didn't mind putting in a few extra hours to get them what they wanted as quickly as possible. My boyfriend Luke would come for dinner after he was done at the Italian restaurant where he worked.He was on the night shift the night before and I sent him an email saying I wanted to see him and couldn't wait.I was going to send him an e-card, he loves the little things, but the online options are a bit pretentious - kissing bunnies, kissing frogs, kissing squirrels, so , I finally wrote a simple email.He knows I'm the kind of girl whose actions speak louder than words, but lately I've been so focused on trying to get a sales deal that I haven't given the poor guy much comfort in action, nor intimacy in words. He deserves better.Several times, I had to cancel appointments at the last minute, but he never complained.

I was trying not to get my clothes dirty as I was stuffing the last of the home-for-sale billboards into the trunk when my phone rang.I hoped that it was a call from the developer, so I quickly took the phone out of the bag. "Are you home?" It's my mother, alas, I won't even say hello first. "I'm going to sell a house." "That means you're still doing it now? Val said she hasn't seen much of your billboard lately." "Have you talked to your aunt?" My mother would have a big fight with this sister every two months, and then "never talk to her again."

At first, she asked me to go to lunch, as if she completely forgot that she had scolded me badly last week, but I was also a little wrong, and finally I said yes.We were still talking on the phone, and she told me, "Your cousin Tamara just sold out a project in a beachfront community. Your aunt is flying to Vancouver tomorrow to go shopping for new clothes on Robertson Avenue with your cousin. Do you believe Is it? It is said to be designer clothes." Auntie, your trick is really amazing.I tried my best not to laugh out loud. Mom also told my aunt: "Tamara is doing a good job, besides, she looks good in any clothes."

In fact, I haven't seen my cousin since she graduated high school and moved to Vancouver.Aunt Val is always emailing me pictures of Tamara, each showing off her amazing baby girl. "I told Val that you have a lot of nice clothes too. You're just... conservative." "Mom, I have a lot of beautiful clothes, but..." I stopped.Mom is setting me up. She's the kind of person who won't let her prey go.The last thing I want is to spend ten minutes debating what constitutes proper business attire with a woman who wears ten-centimeter heels and a stylish slip dress even to carry a letter.It doesn't make any sense.My mother is not tall, only a little over 1.5 meters, but I am always the one who can't hold my head up.

"Before I forget," I said, "can you get me my cappuccino machine later?" She didn't speak for a long time, and then she said, "You want it today?" "Yeah, that's why I asked you." "I just invited a few friends who live over there in the park to come over for coffee tomorrow. How can you always pick such a good time." "Oh, that's right, I'm sorry, Mom, but Luke is coming and I want to make him coffee for breakfast tomorrow. I thought you were going to buy a coffee machine yourself, just to try mine." "We're going to buy one ourselves, but your stepfather and I have been a little busy recently. Then I'll call those friends this afternoon and explain." Now, I feel like I'm being rebellious. "Forget it, then I'll go get it next week." "Thank you, Annie Bear." Now, I'm Annie Bear again. "You're welcome, but I still want to get it back..." She had already hung up the phone. I sighed and stuffed the phone back into my bag.This woman won't let me finish a sentence if she doesn't want to hear it. At the gas station on the corner, I pulled over and bought a cup of coffee and some magazines.Mom loved gossip magazines, I only bought a few when no one was looking at the house and there was nothing else to do.One of the magazines had a poor missing woman on the cover.I looked at her smiling face and thought: She was once a girl living her own life, and now everyone thinks they know her all too well.There are few people who come to see the room.I guess a lot of people are out and about taking advantage of the nice weather - and I should be out, too.About ten minutes before I leave work, I start packing up.I went outside and put the flyer in the trunk, and a relatively new brown van pulled up behind me.A middle-aged man in his forties walked towards me with a smile. "Oops, you're packing up. I deserve it - always trying to save the best for last, can you let me take a look around, I'll be there soon, okay?" For a second, I was hesitating, I wanted to tell him it was getting late and I just wanted to hurry home and I had to go to the store to buy something.Just when I was hesitating, he put his hands on his waist, took a few steps back, and looked at the whole house seriously. "Wow!" I watched him carefully.He was wearing khaki pants, neatly pressed, which I liked.I've always been too lazy to iron my clothes, so I take them out of the dryer and shake them, and it's considered ironed for me.His sneakers were blindingly white and he wore a baseball cap with the logo of one of our local golf courses emblazoned on the brim.The beige short coat also has the same logo on the chest.If he is a member of the golf club, he must have great financial strength.Usually, this open door approach attracts neighbors, or people who drive around on the weekends, but when I saw a copy of our real estate magazine on the dashboard of his van, I think he should really plan to buy a house.Whatever it is, you won't die if you delay for a few minutes. I gave him a big smile: "Of course, this is my job. Hello, my name is Anne O'Sullivan." I held out my hand, and he came over, and when he was about to shake my hand, he stumbled on the flagstone path.In order not to let himself fall, he quickly propped his hands on the ground, sticking his butt high.I reached out to help him, but in the blink of an eye, he had already jumped up and stood up. He smiled and patted the dust off his hands. "My God! I'm sorry. Are you all right?" He has wide blue eyes and a bright smile on his face.The smile at the corner of his mouth spread and extended to his flushed face, and he just smiled brightly, showing his white and neat teeth.This is the most sincere smile I have seen in a long, long time.Facing such a face, people can't help but smile knowingly. He bowed exaggeratedly and said, "Isn't this a special way of appearing? Let me introduce myself first, my name is David." I, too, curtseyed dramatically and said, "Nice to meet you, David." We all laughed, and he said, "Thank you very much, I promise, it won't take you too long." "Don't worry. You can just look around for as long as you want." "You are so kind, but I also know that you must be impatient to go. Now that the weather is so good, you must want to go out and play. I will as soon as possible." My God, I feel so lucky to meet such a buyer who considers our intermediary's feelings.Often, buyers behave and act as if we owe them money. I took him into the house and gave him a detailed introduction to the house.It's a classic West Coast home with vaulted ceilings, fir parapets and spectacular ocean views.He followed me, talking with such enthusiasm that I felt as if I was seeing the house for the first time, too, and I couldn't wait to tell him all the good things about it. "The ad says the house is only two years old, but it doesn't say who built it," he said. "It's a local company called Corbett Construction. The house will have free maintenance for several years. Of course, if you buy it, the service is yours." "Great, you have to be careful when dealing with builders. In this society, you can't trust others too much." "You just said when are you going to move in?" I glanced back at him, and he smiled. "I didn't say it, but I was very flexible. When I found the house I wanted, I knew it." "If you need to apply for a loan, I know a few bank clerks, and I can help you contact them." "Thanks, no, I'll pay in cash." That's almost too good to be true. "Does this house have a backyard?" he said. "I have a dog." "Oh? I like dogs too. What's your dog's breed?" "Golden Retrievers, purebreds, need a lot of room to move around." "I know, I have one too, and if he doesn't get enough of it, he can be a pest." I opened the glass sliding door and showed him the backyard with the fir fence. "What's your dog's name?" The second I waited for his answer, I suddenly realized that he was standing behind me, very close.Suddenly, something hard hit my back. I tried to turn around but he grabbed my hair and jerked my head back so hard it hurt so bad I felt like my scalp was going to be pulled off.My heart pounded violently on my chest, and all the blood poured into my brain.I wanted to kick him, I wanted to run away, I wanted to do something, anything, but I couldn't move. "Yes, Anne, that's a gun, so you have to be good. I'll let your hair go, and you keep quiet, and we'll go outside, to my van. During the process, you kept a beautiful smile on your face, do you understand?" "I...I can't..." I couldn't breathe. He came close to my ear and said in a low and calm voice, "Take a deep breath, Anne." I take a deep breath. "Now, relax and exhale slowly." I exhale slowly. "One more time." I finally saw the surrounding room clearly again. "Good boy." He let go of my hair. Everything is like slow motion in a movie.He walked forward with the gun against me, and I could feel the gun pressing against my spine.He pushed me out the front door and down the steps, humming under his breath. As we walked toward his van, he whispered in my ear: "Relax, Annie. As long as you listen to me, you'll be fine. Don't forget to keep smiling." We were getting farther and farther away from the house, and I looked around - someone should have seen it - but there was no one in sight.I never noticed before that there are so many trees around this house, and the neighboring houses on both sides are all facing different directions. "I'm so happy that the sun is showing for us. It's the perfect weather for driving around, don't you think?" He's got a gun in his hand and he's talking to me about the weather? "Annie, I have a question for you." "yes." "What is it, Anne?" "It's a nice day for a drive." We were like two neighbors chatting against the railing of the yard.I kept thinking, how could he do this in broad daylight.My God, anyone can come in and visit this house at will. My billboard is still erected on the lawn in front of the house. Any minute, other cars may stop. We walked to the front of the van. "Open the door, Anne." I didn't move.He put the gun to my back.I opened the car door. "Now get in the car." The gun pressed even tighter.I got in the car and he closed the door. He walked away and I kept trying to pull the door handle and press the auto door lock button, but the door seemed broken.I hit the door with my shoulder.Hurry up and open the door, hell! He walked in front of the car. I tried my best to knock on the door, press the window button, and pull the door lock, but it didn't work.His door opened and I turned around.He held a remote control car lock in his hand. He held up the remote lock and smiled.As he backed the car out of the driveway, I watched the house get smaller and couldn't believe what was happening.Not true, none of this is true.At the end of the driveway, he stopped for a second to see if there was any traffic on the road.The billboard I put up on the lawn is gone.I looked at the trunk, and there were two billboards that I put up at the end of the road. I suddenly understood.None of this is accidental.He must have seen the ad, and checked the street. He picked me. "By the way, how is your house selling?" It was fine until he showed up. Can I just pull the car key out?Or at least press the unlock button on the fob and jump out of the car before he catches me?I slowly stretched out my left hand, lowering my hand a little... He put his hands on my shoulders and strangled my collarbone. "I was asking you something, Anne. You are not usually so rude." I stare at him. "How is the house selling?" "Hmm... not many people saw it." "Then you must be very happy when I come!" He gave me what I thought was a genuine smile.He waited for my answer, his smile began to disappear slowly, and his hand around me became tighter and tighter. "Yes, yes, I'd be glad if someone came." He smiled again.He rubbed his hands around my shoulders, then pinched my face. "You just need to relax and enjoy the sun, you've been looking stressed lately." He looked at the road ahead again, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on my lap. "You'll love it there." "Where? Where are you taking me?" He started humming.After a while, he turned the car onto a side road and stopped.I have absolutely no idea where I am.He turned off the car, turned around, looked at me and smiled like we were on a date. "It won't be long." He got out of the car, came around in front of the car, and opened my door.I hesitated for a second.He cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows.I get out of the car. With one arm around my shoulder and the gun in the other, we headed for the back of the car. He took a deep breath: "Well, take a breath of the air here. It's really fresh." Everything is so quiet, the tranquility of a hot summer afternoon where you can hear the sound of dragonflies flying by two or three meters away.We walked past a huge huckleberry grove next to the car, almost ripe with fruit.I started screaming and struggling with all my strength, but I couldn't escape.He took his hands off my shoulders, grabbed my arms, and lifted me up.We're still walking, but I can't feel my legs anymore. He let me go, tucked the gun in his belt, and opened the trunk.I turned around to run, but he grabbed the hair at the back of my head, turned me around so I was facing him, grabbed my hair again, and lifted me up so that my toes were almost off the ground.I wanted to kick his legs, but he was a full thirty centimeters taller than me, and he easily lifted me away.The pain was almost unbearable.The only thing he could do was kick his legs in the air and punch his arms with his fists.I screamed as hard as I could.He slapped me across the face with his free hand and said, "Why do such a stupid thing?" I grab the hand that lifts me up in the air and try to pull myself up a bit to relieve the pressure on my scalp. "Let's try again. I'll let you go and you climb into the trunk and lie down on your face." He slowly lowered his hands, and my feet finally touched the ground.I kicked him again, but one of the heels fell off and I lost my balance and fell backwards.The hollow of my knee hit the bumper of the van and I slumped into the back of the van.There was a gray blanket in the trunk.I sat there, looking at him, trembling so badly, my teeth chattered.The sunlight behind him was so dazzling that his face was very dark, and the light and shadow outlined his figure. He pushed hard on my shoulder, pressed me to the sky, and said, "Turn over." "Wait a minute...can we talk?" He smiled at me like I was a puppy gnawing at his shoelaces. "Why are you doing this?" I said, "Do you want money? We can go back and get my wallet, I can tell you my bank card PIN, I have thousands of dollars in my account. With a credit card, the overdraft limit is very high." He still looked at me with a smile. "Let's talk, I know, we can find a solution. I can..." "I don't need your money, Annie." He reached for his gun. "I don't want to shoot, but..." "Don't!" I blocked myself with my hands. "I'm sorry, I don't mean anything else, I just don't know what you want. Is... you want to sleep with me? Is it?" "What did I ask you to do?" "You... you told me to turn over." He raised one eyebrow. "That's it? You just want me to turn over? I turned over, what do you want?" "I've told you twice already, very politely." His hand flicked around the gun. I turned over. "I don't understand why you would do this." My voice was already hoarse.hell.I must remain calm. "Have we met before?" He stood behind me, pushed my waist with one hand, and pushed me down. "If I did something to offend you, I'm sorry, David. I'm really sorry. Tell me how to make it up, okay? There must be a way..." I stopped suddenly and listened to the movement behind me.I could hear some small noises, and I was sure he must be doing something, preparing for something.I waited for the sound of the pistol trigger being pulled.My body trembled with fear.This is my end?Is my life ending in the back of this van?I felt a needle go into my thigh.I flinched back and tried to reach for the needle, but my leg felt like it was on fire. Doctor, before we finish this course of treatment, for the sake of fairness, I have to tell you something. Since we said we should get straight to the point and be honest with each other, I will definitely do it.When I say I'm bad, it means really bad, the kind that has to sleep in the closet every night. When I first came back, I lived in my mother's house and slept in my previous bedroom.Every night I would sleep in the closet out of fear and sneak out in the morning without anyone else knowing.Now that I'm back in my old house, I think it's better that I can control all the uncertainties.However, in any building, if I don't know where its exit is, I will never take a step.Fortunately, your office is on the first floor.If it was higher than I could jump out the window and escape, I wouldn't be sitting here. Night... night is the most annoying.I can't spend the night with other people.I kept thinking, what if they forgot to lock the door?What if they left a window open?If I'm not crazy now, but when I spend the night with others, I check the doors and windows one by one every night, and don't let them find out, then I must be crazy by that time. When I first came home, I thought I'd find someone who was going through the same thing, feeling the same way...Silly, I was looking around for anonymous support groups.But it turned out that there were no anonymous support groups for abductees, either online or in real life.Besides, when you've been on magazine covers, newspaper headlines, and various talk shows, the whole idea of ​​anonymity is ridiculous.Even if I could find such a group, I'd bet that any tearful member of the group would turn around and walk out the door to sell my ordeal, my inside story, to the tabloids, and get myself a cruise or An LCD TV. I also hate telling stories about myself to strangers, especially journalists, they always turn things upside down.Don't you know, a lot of magazines and TV shows offer me a lot of money to be interviewed.I don't want money, but they are always stalking me and going out of their way to get me.Whatever it is, I need money.I can no longer be a real estate agent.What else can a real estate agent do who can't be alone with strangers? Sometimes, I also think back to the day when I was kidnapped-I replay the experience of that day scene by scene in my mind, just like a horror movie that will never end, and the people watching the movie cannot stop the heroine Push open the door and walk into the empty house.I also remember that magazine cover I saw in the store that day.It hurts my heart to think that now, some other girl will look at my picture on the cover of a magazine and think she knows everything about me.